Third Time's the Charm
by Cadid423
Summary: "I didn't turn in my homework, Professor, because it was covered in blood and I didn't think you'd appreciate the extra mess." In which Justin Finch-Fletchy is polite but stubborn, Hannah Abbott should be listened to more often, and Ernie Macmillan proves he does not have three feet. Covers years 2,4, and 5. Ernie's POV. Edited 6/28
1. Chapter 1

Title: Third Time's the Charm

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a trademarked brand owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Any material used belongs to the aforementioned parties. This material is only used in recreational purposes and I receive no monetary or material rewards from using it. Please don't sue me.

* * *

Ernie Macmillan is a very sincere person. When he reaches a conclusion, he will defend his views to his dying breath, and if Hogwarts had a debate team, Ernie would be a founding member.

Ernie is only twelve though, so his opinions aren't always correct and his reasoning is rarely sound. But Ernie also likes being right, so you'll be hard-pressed to convince Ernie he's wrong without some conclusive evidence.

And Ernie's a pureblood, so it's not as if he's ever heard that muggle saying about assumptions and their consequences.

(Because despite his sincerity, _earnest_ has never meant the same thing as _right._)

* * *

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Ernie has no idea what this could possibly mean, but a chill seems to ripple through his body; almost as if he'd accidently stepped through the Fair Friar again.

To his right, Hannah clutches fearfully at his elbow, eyes wide with horror at the fate of Mrs. Norris, and on his other side Justin is muttering under his breath, probably about how distasteful the entire situation is. And Ernie isn't sure _specifically_ what the Chamber of Secrets is, but it sounds kind of familiar in the same way the title of song does even if you can't remember the words.

And despite the serious threat lurking in the painted message, Ernie isn't all that worried. He would however, like to know what exactly he's supposed to be cowering in fear from before he casts judgment.

But he can hear Anthony Goldstein muttering rapidly to Kevin Entwistle behind him about some book or another, so Ernie's sure he'll be informed tomorrow during double Charms.

* * *

A secret hidden chamber created by Salazar Slytherin that contains a horrible beast used to kill Muggleborns _along_ with that small first-year who's always scurrying about with that weird muggle camera getting petrified? _That_ is definitely something worth worrying about.

Suddenly, the pure-blooded ancestry Ernie's so used to throwing around makes his skin crawl with the uncomfortable feeling of being unclean._ Especially_ when Justin, his best mate, has become such a huge target for the exact opposite reason.

But Hannah's already freaked out enough for all three of them, so Ernie tries to keep acting normally as possible.

(And if Ernie suddenly starts to walk a little in front of his friends as they journey from Transfiguration to Potions, well… that's just a coincidence.)

* * *

The thing about Hannah Abbott is that you have to ask her opinion before she's had the chance to doubt herself. The girl is perceptive like no other, but despite her confidence in her observations, she has little confidence in herself. Put her up against a large crowd or any bloke with a loud, opinionated voice and she crumbles in an instant.

"I don't know about this guys," Hannah says, twisting the ends of her blonde pigtails nervously. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Oh come on Hannah! When could there possibly be a better time to learn to duel than now?" Justin points out. "And maybe if we're lucky, Professor Lockhart will be teaching!"

"Don't worry about it; Justin and I will be there to protect you Hannah," Ernie reassures, a bit condesendingly.

The half-blood girl pulls a face and drops her hands from her hair. "Yeah, maybe."

* * *

When Harry Potter and Malfoy are called upon as an example for dueling club, Ernie mentally questions Lockhart's sanity, teaching skills, and his possible lack of common sense.

Because knowingly asking a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to cast harmful spells at each other, let alone a pair with a known rivalry, is an accident just **waiting** to happen.

Ernie didn't expect Justin to be dragged into the line of fire though.

* * *

He and Hannah almost run into each other in their haste to follow Justin out of the Great Hall. Then they turn as one and march towards the Hufflepuff common room.

Unsurprisingly, after crawling through the barreled entrance they find Justin pacing in front of the purple flutterby bush that sits on the far side of the common room, breathing heavily from adrenaline.

Good manners and pacing: the two things that Justin Finch-Fletchly can always be counted on for.

"Justin!" Hannah cries, throwing her arms around the much taller muggleborn. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine – I'm fine. I'm good, I- I'm good."

But Justin shakes her off and continues to pace, two fingers reaching up to massage each temple. No one says it aloud, but it's obvious what they're all thinking. In the span of a few minutes, Justin has gone from bowtruckle to bicorn on the risk scale.

"Justin, I think you should stay in the common room for a few days. Keep a low profile and all that," Ernie offers quietly.

Fact: Ernie Macmillan barely knows Harry Potter.

Fact: Harry Potter is a Parselmouth.

Fact: Harry Potter just tried to attack Justin Finch-Fletchly.

Conclusion: Harry Potter is the Heir of Slytherin.

Other variables: none considered.

(Fueled by his own worries and with little time to decide on a course of action, what conclusion did you _expect_ Ernie to apparate to?)

* * *

"That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?" Ernie's catching Megan and Stephen up on the happenings of yesterday, both being too far away from the stage to know what had happened.

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" says Hannah anxiously.

"Hannah," Ernie murmurs solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

"He always seems so nice, though," says Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

(Maybe Ernie should learn to take his own advice)

* * *

It takes Ernie a few minutes to realize that Nearly-Headless Nick isn't the only victim of this attack.

"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done, You're killing off' students, you think it's good fun —"

'_Students? I thought only Nick…'_

Then Ernie notices. There's a weird half-circle formed by the nosy students from third period Transfiguration as they gawk at something on the floor. Slowly, painfully slowly, Ernie's gaze is dragged towards the other figure that lies at Professor McGonagall's feet. He's almost completely out of view and it's too dark to see much detail, but Ernie would know that profile anywhere.

There's a funny ringing in his ears as he stares at Justin's stiff body, and Ernie stands frozen in shock for long after the other boy has been carried up to the hospital wing. He barely even hears Professor McGonagall when she directs him to float the now blackened ghost up the staircase.

Looks like he was right after all.

(Yay.)

* * *

When he finally returns to the common room, Ernie isn't surprised to find Hannah waiting for him. He is, however, shocked to find her in such high spirits.

"Oh Ernie, thank Merlin, I've been waiting for you for ages!" The blonde girl says cheerfully, long pigtails bouncing in her excitement. "Would you go upstairs and get Justin? I've been calling through the barrel for him, but I think he's gone off and fallen asleep and he promised to help me with the Astronomy assignment. I'd go and get him myself, but you know how flustered he gets whenever I go into the boy's dorm."

For a moment, Ernie simply stares at the shorter girl blankly, her words washing over him like the tide. He looks around the common room in disbelief, but not a single student would meet his gaze.

'_No way,'_ Ernie thinks horrified. _'Nobody told her.'_

"Ernie? Did you hear me?" Hannah asks when her fellow Hufflepuff doesn't answer immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Justin isn't in the dorm Hannah." Even to his own ears, his voice sounds hollow.

"What do you mean? Have you already checked?"

"Maybe - maybe you should sit down Hannah."

"Ernie, what's going on?" Hannah's worried now, but she follows his instructions. "What's happened?"

For a moment, Ernie flounders for something to say. He's never been good at delivering bad news and he doesn't see that changing within the next three seconds. But Hannah Abbott is sharp as a whip when it comes to noticing things people would rather keep hidden. After studying his expression for a few seconds, she lets out a gasp of surprise, cupping a hand to her mouth.

"It's Justin, isn't it?" she whispers hoarsely. "It got Justin."

Unable to speak, Ernie nods in conformation. Ernie's always been pretty handy with words and in this moment, there's nothing Ernie wants more than to be able to say something that will make this awful situation a little better. Ernie can see tears forming in Hannah's blue eyes, but for once in his life, Ernie Macmillan has no idea what to say. Almost immediately he wishes Justin was here because emotions make Ernie uncomfortable and Justin's always the one who comforts Hannah when she cries.

But Justin isn't here.

It's just Ernie and Hannah: an incomplete trio.

So Ernie does the only thing he can think of and opens his arms in a hugging gesture. Hannah basically falls into him, crying heavily into his broad shoulders.

"Come on Hannah," Ernie whispers into her ear as he leads over to sit in front of the fireplace. "It'll be alright."

(But will it? Ernie's never been any good at this whole reassurance thing.)

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Ernie and Hannah sit in their usual places, but Justin's absence is blatantly obvious.

Ernie can barely even stand to look at the empty space across the table and next to Hannah, and the smaller girl's lip quivers as she munches her toast.

No one even attempts to fill the unoccupied seat.

(Ernie isn't sure if that makes him feel better or not.)

* * *

In the end, Ernie never brags about his seemingly correct assessment of Harry Potter: dark wizard in disguise. Half of him simply doesn't want to, because the memory of Justin lying stiff as a board in the middle of a crowded hallway makes him sick to his stomach. The half that _does_ want to is quickly chided by his conscience, which, at the moment, speaks with a posh, upperclass accent that sounds strangely familiar.

(You should never boast or say 'I told you so' Ernie. No one ever appreciates being told they're wrong, and doing so just makes you look arrogant.)

* * *

It doesn't happen often, but there are times when, during his intense glaring at Harry Potter during Herbology, that Ernie's sure he's missing something extremely obvious.

But even though Ernie's gaze is trained on Potter with Snidget-like precision, he's also studiously ignoring the empty fourth chair in the group all students work in during Professor Sprout's class, so maybe that's it.

("Mandrake or Mandragora…" "Venomous Tentacula should always be planted in solitude lest they…")

* * *

The final Quidditch match is between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor is a bright spot in a sea of misery that Ernie's forced to call his second year.

(Maybe he should've known better than to honestly believe it would go off without a hitch.)

* * *

The news spreads like wildfire: Hermione Granger's been attacked by the monster. And some Ravenclaw girl was too, which has most of the upperclassmen in an uproar, but Ernie's mostly just concerned with Hermione.

When they hear the news, Hannah and Ernie exchange guilt-ridden glances. Now that it's been highlighted so brightly, Ernie can't believe he missed it such an obvious hitch in his reasoning. Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron sit together, alone. And maybe it's just Ernie's imagination, but the two lions look strangely lacking without the customary frizzy brown hair to fill the spot across from Ron and next to Harry.

This effect is not lessened any in Herbology. And it **doesn't** make Ernie's stomach twist. _Really!_

Previous Conclusion: Harry Potter is the Heir of Slytherin.

Fact: Hermione Granger is a muggleborn.

Fact: Hermione Granger has been petrified.

Fact: Hermione Granger is best friends with Harry Potter.

Revised Conclusion: Harry Potter is _not_ the Heir of Slytherin.

(And Ernie's more than a bit stupid to have believed otherwise.)

* * *

It's a couple weeks later that Hannah decides she's finally had enough of Ernie's stubbornness. Professor Sprout has set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs, and Susan and Wayne had come to join them at their table as usual. Before they can sit down though, the blonde interrupts.

"Actually guys, would you mind terribly to work by yourselves today?" Hannah asks pleasantly, but she isn't looking at the pair as she voices her request. Instead, she's staring at Ernie; chin lifted defiantly and a steely glint in her blue eyes. "Ernie's got something he needs to take care of, don't you Ernie?"

Ernie decides to take the hint.

* * *

He takes a deep breath and starts a formal Macmillan apology, "I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and, well —"

He holds out a pudgy hand, and Harry takes it without hesitation. Then, he and Hannah come over to work with the Gryffindor boys at their table in the back.

(It doesn't occur to Ernie just how similar the two pairs are in this moment. Perhaps it never will.)

* * *

"That Draco Malfoy character," says Ernie, breaking off dead twigs, "He seems very pleased about all this, doesn't he? D'you know, I think he might be Slytherin's heir."

"That's clever of you," says Ron, who didn't seem to have forgiven Ernie as readily as Harry. Ernie doesn't mind though; he'd probably do the same thing.

"Do _you_ think it's Malfoy, Harry?" Ernie asks.

"No," says Harry, so sure of himself that Ernie and Hannah can't help but stare.

…

"Ouch! What're you —" Ron shouts out suddenly, startling the two Hufflepuffs.

Harry points out something on the ground, following some obscured movement with his eyes screwed up against the sun.

"Oh, yeah," says Ron, trying, and failing, to look pleased. "But we can't follow them now —"

Ernie and Hannah were listening curiously. _'Follow them? What does that mean?'_

"Looks like they're heading for the Forbidden Forest…"

...Ernie is a Hufflepuff, and life-threatening adventures always ruin his appetite, so he bites back the question that dances on the tip of his tongue and decides that he **really doesn't** need to know.

* * *

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall makes an announcement at breakfast.

"I have good news," she says, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupts.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yell joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squeals a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" a burly Gryffindor teen roars excitedly.

"Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

Never before has Ernie been so excited for plants to grow.

* * *

When Ernie is shaken awake at 2am by a person with familiar brown eyes and short, dark hair, he's sure he's dreaming.

...And he might have questioned that out loud.

"No, it's me Ernie! Justin! All the victims just got the healing draught from Madame Pomfrey so of course I-" Whatever Justin was about to say is cut off when Ernie tackles him.

...

...

Tackle hug.

...

...

Whatever.

* * *

"Ernie! What're you doing?" the Muggle-born asks bewildered.

In the haze of sleepiness, Ernie answers a lot more honestly than he'd intended. "I just really missed you Justin."

There's silence for a second before the stout boy realizes what he's said and starts backtracking quickly. "I mean… It's just Hannah's been really upset and I'm rubbish with crying girls so-"

But Justin's expression softens and he claps Ernie on the back awkwardly from where he lies on the floor.

"Me too mate, me too."

* * *

**Chapter One is finished! I'm hoping to have the story finished by next Monday, so watch out for that! Also, reviews are cherished and loved! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Third Time's the Charm

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a trademarked brand owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Any material used belongs to the aforementioned parties. This material is only used in recreational purposes and I receive no monetary or material rewards from using it. Please don't sue me.

* * *

As it turns out, Ernie only owns one black tie.

It's almost brand new; worn once in the four, almost five years Ernie had it, but now that he's found it he'd be surprised if the darn thing still fits.

And it almost doesn't, the Hogwarts crest fitting uncomfortably tight around Ernie's neck, but it's long enough to tuck under his sweater so it'll do for now.

Hannah and Justin wait for him downstairs by the fire, both outfitted similarly in all black. Hannah's eyes are dry, but it's clear she was up all night crying. The moment the Gaelic boy is close enough, Justin and Ernie exchange worried glances. They know from experience: allow Hannah to get too worked up and she'll have to be taken to the hospital wing for a calming draught.

She has a perfectly reasonable excuse for being so upset: Cedric Diggory is dead. Murdered, accident, suicide… at the moment, Ernie can't be bothered with the details, because knowing every gory play-by-play isn't going to bring him back. And it's not as if Ernie knew Cedric well or anything, but Hufflepuff has always been a pretty close-knit bunch of kids, so the badgers all mourn as though the sixth-year was a close and cherished friend.

He does come to one conclusion though. Harry Potter never wanted to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. It's not something anyone has to point out, and a good half of the student body probably still aren't persuaded, but Ernie knows he's made another error in judgment.

In Ernie's defense, it _had_ been an entire year since the last scandal featuring the boy-who-lived, and attention-seeking-show-off is a lot more plausible than dark-wizard-overlord. But even still, he owes the Gryffindor one.

(Ernie wants to believe in the return of You-Know-Who about as much as a Crup welcomes Halloween. It doesn't stop him from convincing his parents to cancel their subscription to the Daily Prophet though)

* * *

When Ernie finally receives his fifth year Hogwarts letter, he is actually genuinely surprised to find a black and yellow prefects badge amongst its contents. Instead of being ecstatic like he thought he would, the first thought that pops into Ernie's mind makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

"It's really nice of you guys to support me, but do you really have to wear those badges?"

"I don't care if Potter lives a secret double life as the Queen! I'm **not** wearing that tacky monstrosity!"

"Did you see his face? He looked so surprised!"

"Us 'Puffs stick together Cedric! You should know that by now!"

* * *

In all honestly, Ernie's been purposely avoiding Harry this year. Not because Ernie thinks he is crazy, but because he has no idea what to say to the messy haired teen that doesn't sound guilt ridden or insincere.

Ernie's pretty sure the only person who's noticed this behavior is Hannah, but she never says anything about it, so Ernie thinks she understands where he's coming from.

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts is a complete joke. Professor Umbridge doesn't actually _do_ any teaching, preferring instead to assign reading and essays, and the textbook they're supposed to study is complete…

Baloney.

Maybe that's why when Hermione Granger approaches the trio in the library one afternoon he's so apt to listen.

(You simply cannot mess with education during OWL year! What are they thinking!)

* * *

When Ernie takes his first look at the Hog's Head, his immediate thought is that he's ended up in the wrong place, because there's no way Hermione Granger would hold a meeting in a dump like this.

"Come on," Susan says, dragging an apprehensive looking Hannah through the door by the elbow, her long plait swinging in the wind. They disappear behind the heavy oak door and don't immediately start shrieking, so Ernie supposes it's okay to go inside.

* * *

It's a decrepit building, all dark wood and gray paint, and the entire area smells like wet barnyard animal. But unless there's another pub named after an animal, this must be the place.

During most of the meeting, Ernie just listens quietly, nursing his Butterbeer like a fine wine.

"Right," says Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week -"

"Hang on," interrupts a seveth year that Ernie doesn't recognize, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," says Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours," adds Zacharias.

Really? Quidditch practice? If Ernie was making a list of extracurriculars in order from most important to least, this would definitely top the list.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently, as though reading his mind, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters -"

"Well said!" He shouts out, "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!"

Ernie looks around at all assembled, waiting for someone to disagree. Thankfully, no one does, so he continues on. "I, personally am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know- Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells -"

As he talks, Ernie tries desperately hard not to mention the third task or Cedric or the Daily Prophet, because that's all people seem to ask Harry about these days. And as much as Ernie'd like to know about what happened that summer night, he's not nearly rude enough to demand to know, and he doesn't feel he's entitled to the information anyway.

Ernie likes to think his sudden discretion makes up for never apologizing to Harry for thinking he'd cheated his way into the Triwizard Tournament.

(It's not as if he's got anything _else_ Harry might appreciate)

* * *

When Hermione mentions that she wants them all to sign their names, well, you can't blame Ernie for being a little nervous.

"I - well, we are prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found… well, I mean to say… you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out -"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminds him.

"I - yes," says Ernie, trapped by his own words, "yes, I do believe that, it's just -"

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" says Hermione testily.

Oh, right. Hermione Granger: top of the class, bookworm, Ravenclaw in disguise, and possibly the most responsible person in the school. Of course she wouldn't…

"No. No, of course not," says Ernie, feeling slightly less anxious. "I - yes, of course I'll sign."

* * *

He's running as fast as he can, dragging a panting Hannah along with him as he sprints. He has no idea what happened to Justin or Susan, but he can just barely make out the back of Zacharias's blonde head as he takes the marble stairs two and three at a time. The Scottish boy fled from the Room of Requirement long before Harry had given the order to run, and if Ernie was any less of a gentleman, he could think of several jinxes and swearwords he'd like to use on his unreliable dorm mate.

They fly back into the copper covered common room as though You-Know-Who himself was chasing them, but despite the safety of the badger's den, neither want to go up to bed without their missing dorm mate.

(They don't even consider it)

* * *

When Susan and Justin finally make it back to the common room that night, the redhead is fiddling with a bandage the muggleborn now has wrapped around his right hand.

Neither seems all that surprised to find their friends up so late, but Justin looks as though he'd hoping against hope for the opposite.

"What took you guys so long?" Ernie asks sleepily.

Susan is practically vibrating with fury as she marches Justin to sit on one of the fluffy yellow couches.

"That Umbridge woman is an absolute monster!" Susan mutters venomously. "Hannah, would you grab some dittany from my trunk?"

It's obvious that Hannah knows what kind of injuries Dittany is used for and they must lead her to a particularly unpleasant conclusion, because her features grow grim in the flickering light as she stares at Justin's bandage.

"Do you want some murtlap too?"

Susan looks at the blonde in relief, "If you have some."

As Hannah runs to her dorm, Ernie turns back towards back to his friend. "Justin," he starts, even more solemn than normal. "What happened?"

The brunette lifts his head from where he stares mutinously at the ground; his brown eyes are dark with a stubborn fire. "Nothing," he mutters in a rare display of petulance. "I'm fine, Susan's just overreacting."

"Don't you dare try to excuse her Justin Finch-Fletchly!" Susan hisses, but most of her anger is obviously directed towards someone who isn't there. "Don't you dare!"

Hannah appears behind her looking unhappy, arms loaded with several bottles and creams.

"I've got all the stuff Susan," she starts, lining the bottles on a nearby table that she doesn't bother to clear of the homework she and Ernie had been working on as they waited.

"How many holders do you need?"

Susan glances at Ernie as if sizing him up. "Ernie should be fine. Are those wraps absorbent or reflective?"

"Reflective I think, but most of them are also tear resistant."

"Wait a moment! What exactly are y-"

"Ernie," Hannah interrupts. "We need you to do exactly what we say. Justin's hand is…"

She trails off, unsure. "How did it happen, Susan?"

The taller girl throws a dirty look towards Justin, "I don't know what _exactly_ because this git wouldn't tell me." She reaches for the wounded hand, carefully unwrapping the bloody gauze as she speaks, discarding it onto the table. "It's Umbridge's idea of punishment."

Ernie doesn't know what he expected, but he didn't think it would be so gruesome. The back of Justin's hand is bleeding freely, the skin gleaming a bright red with rawness. It looks as if someone had taken a quill knife and carved it into the vulnerable flesh. The message written isn't complete, but Ernie's always been pretty good at fill-in-the-blank.

"I must respect my betters," Ernie repeats slowly, fists clenching automatically in his anger, a funny ringing in his ears.

"It'll probably scar too," Susan says sadly. "I'm not sure if Dittany works on cursed injuries, but we'll try our best."

"Can't we take him too Madame Pomfrey?" Hannah starts desperately. "Doesn't she have something that would-"

"I'm not going to the hospital wing," Justin pipes up unexpectedly, brow furrowed in thought. "I'm not letting her win." He casts a sideways glance at Susan who sits to his right. "Do what you can, but I won't expect any miracles."

Susan nods her understanding, taking a deep breath as she turns back to Hannah. "You know what to do?"

"Hold his arm Ernie: keep him still."

Hannah's lower lip quivers, but her hands are steady are steady as she uncorks the flask.

"This might sting a bit," she whispers, before spilling a few drops of Dittany onto the still bleeding gashes.

Justin's cry of pain startles Ernie so badly that he almost lets the other boy go, but he manages to hang on.

"It's almost done Justin, I'm almost finished," Hannah murmurs shakily as she continues despite her friend's howls, tears forming in her eyes.

As the duo try to stop the bleeding, Susan soaks the bandages in a funny smelling yellow liquid that Ernie doesn't recognize. Together, the two girls carefully re-wrap Justin's hand, the muggle-born nearly crying in relief as they finish.

(Who in the… blooming… fudging… heck would let Umbridge teach in a school? Guard a dungeon's more like)

* * *

"Mr. Macmillan," Umbridge starts, her voice venomously sweet. "You did not turn in you essay on chapter sixteen, despite the fact that you had a whole night to work on it. May I ask why?"

Ernie answers as calmly as he can, but his tone is clipped and frigid. "I didn't turn in my homework, Professor, because it was covered in blood and I didn't think you'd appreciate the extra mess."

He hears someone snort with laughter behind him; to his left Morag MacDougal rolls her eyes, and Ernie can see Su Li and Mandy Brocklehurst exchanging 'can-you-believe-this-guy?' glances. Clearly, they think he's kidding or trying to get out of work, but Ernie doesn't smile and neither do any of the other Hufflepuffs; even the ones who don't know what happened.

Because the Ravenclaws might not be aware of it, but it's common knowledge in Hufflepuff: Ernie Macmillan does not joke.

At all.

Ever.

Ernie simply gazes at Umbridge calmly, almost daring her to say something against him.

"You'll just have to make it up tonight then, won't you Mr. Macmillan?"

* * *

He's well aware that had he not been a pureblood, he'd be suffering the same fate as Justin tonight but as he heads towards the Great Hall for lunch, Ernie doesn't feel any guilt for throwing his name around.

'_Us 'Puffs stick together, huh Cedric?' _He thinks reflectively.

(Because Ernie can learn… it just takes him a few tries sometimes)

* * *

Ernie Macmillan is a very sincere person. When he reaches a conclusion, he will defend his views to his dying breath, and if Hogwarts had a debate team, Ernie would be a founding member.

Ernie's just turned sixteen though, so his arguments are getting better and he's finally learned the meaning of 'proof'. And Ernie likes being right, so he definitely appreciates not needing as many of those admittedly well-deserved 'I-told-you-so' looks Hannah likes to throw his way sometimes.

And Ernie is human, so he, like everyone else, has stuck his foot in his mouth at least once.

(But Ernie Macmillan proud to be able to prove that no, he doesn't have three feet)

* * *

**Hey guys! Somehow, amazingly, I got this chapter finished waaaaay ahead of schedule. An unexpected side-effect of having finals for three weeks also meant that I had at least an hour each day to work on fanfiction, so yay! Hope you enjoyed! - Cadid423**


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